Theme for English 11
The instructor said,
Go home and write
A page tonight
And let that page come out of you-
Then, it will be true.
Will it really be true?
Will this page really be me?
Who am I?
How will you know this page is really me?
How will I know?
I am full of questions.
How can this page be true if it’s all questions?
But the questions come from me.
I am eighteen years old.
Why can’t I be six years old again?
Free,
To color all day long,
To be ignorant…
To be sheltered…
To be happy…
I live in a house.
Why can’t I just wander?
Be a nomad and live life for life, not for money or for the future, live for now.
My house is in a town.
It’s not big and known enough.
It’s too big.
It’s my town.
I have homework, job-work, love-work, life work.
Why do I have to do so much work?
Ok, I stop asking questions and just like
(Once in a while.)
I like being loved, encased in strong arms.
I like being happy, laughing with those I love.
I like being safe, nothing can hurt me.
I love; I laugh; I am invincible.
But I’m not perfect.
I know that.
You know that.
I want to be right
And accepted
And wanted
And loved for who I am
But I find myself
Changing, to fit
And doing bad things
Is this page really me?
Or is it the changed me?
Changed to be you.
I‘m not sure if I can take
Just being me.
Am I bad?
I’ve done bad things.
Can I still get into heaven?
~~Author's Note~~
This is a poetry imitation of a poem called Theme for English B. the assignment, one of many for high school honors english, really made me think about myself and who i am and life in general. i though it would be a good way to introduce the pieces of me that my brain is constantly trying to connect into a functioning human being.
Go home and write
A page tonight
And let that page come out of you-
Then, it will be true.
Will it really be true?
Will this page really be me?
Who am I?
How will you know this page is really me?
How will I know?
I am full of questions.
How can this page be true if it’s all questions?
But the questions come from me.
I am eighteen years old.
Why can’t I be six years old again?
Free,
To color all day long,
To be ignorant…
To be sheltered…
To be happy…
I live in a house.
Why can’t I just wander?
Be a nomad and live life for life, not for money or for the future, live for now.
My house is in a town.
It’s not big and known enough.
It’s too big.
It’s my town.
I have homework, job-work, love-work, life work.
Why do I have to do so much work?
Ok, I stop asking questions and just like
(Once in a while.)
I like being loved, encased in strong arms.
I like being happy, laughing with those I love.
I like being safe, nothing can hurt me.
I love; I laugh; I am invincible.
But I’m not perfect.
I know that.
You know that.
I want to be right
And accepted
And wanted
And loved for who I am
But I find myself
Changing, to fit
And doing bad things
Is this page really me?
Or is it the changed me?
Changed to be you.
I‘m not sure if I can take
Just being me.
Am I bad?
I’ve done bad things.
Can I still get into heaven?
~~Author's Note~~
This is a poetry imitation of a poem called Theme for English B. the assignment, one of many for high school honors english, really made me think about myself and who i am and life in general. i though it would be a good way to introduce the pieces of me that my brain is constantly trying to connect into a functioning human being.